Stefan Herheim’s Olivier award-winning new production had its world premiere in October 2013, and was screened live in cinemas across the world. Read audience reactions to the opening night and the cinema relay.

The opera, which includes a range of impressive choruses, passionate duets and showpiece arias, is based on historical events from the 13th century, when the French and the Sicilians were in conflict. Stefan Herheim's elaborate production is set in a spectacular re-creation of the Paris Opéra of the 1850s. The director also explores the conflict between artists and those who want to abuse art

Katharina Thoma will make her Royal Opera debut with a new production of Verdi’s Un ballo in maschera, which will have its UK premiere on 18 December 2014.

‘[Un ballo in maschera] is a story about the last days of monarchy; a story that includes love affairs, political conflicts and secret rebellion, which ends with the assassination’ says Katharina. ‘It is a brilliant mixture of tragedy and comedy, and the contradiction of the light and bright, and the very dark and tragic, is absolutely brilliant.’

Un ballo in maschera, one of Verdi’s most popular operas, features some of his most sophisticated and subtle music and was an instant success when it had its premiere in 1859.

Originally, Verdi based the opera on the story of Swedish king Gustav III, who was assassinated at a masked ball in the 18th-century. However, following objections by Italian censors in Naples and Italy, he was forced to transform the king into a governor – Governor Riccardo of Boston.

‘A lot of aspects in this piece fit with the world of society about 100 years ago – when one big epoch was coming to an end and the world was heading towards WWI without knowing it,’ says Katharina. ‘The piece also plays with different identities, which is a characterization of modern society: people tend to put on a mask and show a different identity.’

Un ballo in maschera runs from 18 December 2014 – 17 January 2015. It is a co-production with Theater Dortmund and Scottish Opera and staged with generous philanthropic support from The Royal Opera House Endowment Fund.

Operas have long expressed criticism of war and conflict. The hero of Mozart’s La clemenza di Tito (1791) is determined to avoid tyranny at all cost. Verdi gives the title character in Simon Boccanegra (1857, rev. 1881) an ardent plea for peace, while Aida (1871) negatively portrays the Egyptians as brutal warmongers in contrast to the peaceful Ethiopians. Richard Strauss’s Friedenstag (1938) had such a clear anti-war message that the Nazis banned it, while Prokofiev explored the misery of the Napoleonic Wars in War and Peace (1943). Following the horrors of World War II, opera increasingly became a way in which composers – including the dedicated pacifists Tippett and Britten – could explore their political and moral convictions.

In King Priam (1962) Tippett uses the story of the Trojan War to explore the far-reaching effects of personal decisions. All the choices made in the first act of the opera – such as Priam abandoning his baby son Paris and years later bringing him home again, and Paris eloping with Helen – have tragic consequences. But could there ever have been a ‘right choice’? In a significant departure from Ancient Greek myth Tippett downplays the role of the gods – his human characters are independent, and their decisions their own.

In another contrast to his main source the Iliad, Tippett focuses on the trauma of war away from the battlefield, particularly on the sufferings of the ageing King Priam. Act II depicts the brutality of war through a gruesome, harshly-scored trio in which Priam, Hector and Paris gloat over the supposed death of Achilles. Act III movingly explores the terror of the Trojan women as their men fall in battle, and Priam’s grief as he begs Achilles for the body of his son Hector. The final scene, as Priam resigns himself to death, drives home the futility of war.

Britten was as firm a pacifist as Tippett, and wrote several openly anti-war works. Arguably his most famous is the War Requiem (written like King Priam for the consecration of Coventry Cathedral in 1962), which makes poignant use of the poetry of Wilfred Owen, interwoven with the Latin Requiem Mass. Criticism of war also features in several of Britten’s operas, most explicitly Owen Wingrave (a television opera first broadcast in 1971 and first performed onstage in 1974). Owen is expected to follow family tradition and join the army, but rejects a military career, and tells his grandfather General Sir Philip that he would make war a criminal offence. The harsh military music associated with the older Wingraves contrasts with Owen’s ardent defence of pacifism – culminating in his radiant Act II Peace Aria, where he declares ‘in peace I have found my image, I have found myself’. But Owen is denied a happy end when the ghosts of his ancestors take their revenge on him.

Britten and Tippett have not been the only composers to take an anti-war stance. Henze’s pacifism is reflected in his operas Der Prinz von Homburg (1958, about a prince who prefers love to his military duties), The English Cat(1980–83, a humorous work about a group of pacifist cats) and his re-workings of Greek tragedies in The Bassarids (1964–5) and Phaedra (2007). Philip Glass’s hugely popular Satyagraha (1979) explores Gandhi’s concept of non-violent resistance to injustice, while his Appomattox (2007) depicts the horrendous brutality of the American Civil War. Mark-Anthony Turnage turned to Sean O’Casey’s fiercely pacifist play on the tragedy of World War I for The Silver Tassie (2000). And John Adams has explored totalitarianism in Nixon in China (1987), terrorism in The Death of Klinghoffer (1991) and the horrors of nuclear warfare in Doctor Atomic (2005). In our politically volatile times, the message of non-violence in operas seems ever more relevant.

English Touring Opera performs King Priam in the Linbury Studio Theatre 13–22 February 2014. Tickets are currently sold out, but returns may become available.

Les Vêpres siciliennes was Verdi’s first grand opera. Originally written for the Paris Opéra, it follows in the tradition of French grand opera laid out by Meyerbeer. Though a huge success on its premiere (it was performed some 62 times in Paris in its first year alone), it failed to gain a place in the Paris Opéra’s repertory and as a result is one of Verdi’s lesser known works. This is the first time the opera has been performed at the Royal Opera House and promises to be a unique opportunity to see an operatic rarity.

The Story

Set amidst the turmoil of the French occupation of Sicily, Les Vêpres siciliennes is a tale of revenge, family relations and patriotism. Hélène longs to avenge her brother’s death at the hands of the powerful Guy de Montfort and in her bid for vengeance, she turns to the partisan Jean Procida and the rebellious patriot Henri. However, Henri’s discovery that his life and Montfort’s are closely entwined throws him, Montfort and Hélène into confusion and turmoil.

The Production

Stefan Herheim’s production is set in a stylized version of the very opera house in which the opera had its premiere. In this way, the production not only depicts the emotional and political struggle between the French and Sicilians, but also the tension between artists and art, and those who use and abuse it.

Set-piece ballet was a crucial part of grand opera, and themes of dance and the seedy voyeurism associated with it in the nineteenth century are woven into the production with performances throughout by eight tutu-clad dancers. Find out more about the production.

The patriots Hélène and Henri are intent on freeing Sicily from French rule. But the French governor Montfort has some startling news for Henri. Where will Henri’s loyalties now lie, and if he renounces Sicily’s cause will the rebel Jean Procida ever forgive him?

Essentially Theatrical

Stefan Herheim’s production takes place in a stylized version of the very opera house for which Les Vêpres siciliennes was written. Its plot, based around the political and emotional struggle between the French and the Sicilians, is told on one level, but the production also translates the story into an existential struggle between artists and the people who want to use and abuse art – making art itself the country over which they are fighting.

Verdi wrote Les Vêpres siciliennes for the Paris Opéra. His librettist was Eugène Scribe, the leading librettist for French grand opera at the time. Les Vêpres siciliennes had its premiere on 13 June 1855 and was very well received. However, it failed to gain a place in the Opéra’s repertory, due in part to a gradual lessening of interest in grand opera. This is the first time the work has been performed at the Royal Opera House.

A Grand Score for a Grand Opera

Les Vêpres siciliennes is constructed on a massive scale, with a richly varied and dramatic score. Highlights include dances, fiery choruses for the opposing French and Sicilian forces, large-scale duets (including a major scene for Henri and Montfort in Act III, and another for Henri and Hélène in Act IV) and several atmospheric arias, including Montfort’s Act III monologue and Hélène’s virtuosic boléro (‘Merci, jeunes amis’) in Act V.

Fathers and Sons

Verdi is well known for his psychologically probing portrayals of the father-daughter relationship, but the father-son bond also fascinated him. Scribe’s libretto (adapted from an earlier one written for Donizetti, Le Duc d’Albe) and Verdi’s music powerfully explore the tormented relationship between Henri and Montfort.

The production is generously supported by Mrs Susan A Olde OBE, Mrs Aline Foriel-Destezet, Mr and Mrs Baha Bassatne and The Maestro’s Circle. It is a co-production with The Royal Danish Opera, Copenhagen.

Jonas Kaufmann astonished with his all-Wagner recital earlier in the year. He follows it now with his Verdi Album, his first release on Sony. Some of the repertoire is not an easy fit – don’t expect to see Kaufmann tackle the too-lyric Riccardo in Un ballo in maschera any time soon – but when the role is right, Kaufmann is unbeatable. The thirteen selections here cover both familiar and less well known Verdi arias, and it is evident that the tenor has thought each through from both a dramatic and a musical standpoint. This is visceral and virile singing, never more so than in his two selections from Otello: a role debut we can only hope is not far distant. Listen to Jonas Kaufmann's Verdi Album on Spotify.

In an ironic nod to a natural succession, Sony have released Placido Domingo’s new all-Verdi album at the same time as the Kaufmann disc. The great tenor is now singing the baritone repertoire, and this disc is a rich sampler of his stage roles of this voice type plus others he may never attempt. His voice is no longer able to sustain long lines and sometimes colours can’t quite manifest; but - and it’s a big but - this is quintessential Verdi singing from a master of his art. The deficiencies of age pale, and what remains is a blazing celebration of Verdi singing that breathes with an innate understanding of style and identification. A great recording all told, and not one I expected to deliver quite so eloquently. Listen to Plàcido Domingo's Verdi on Spotify.

The late – and great – soprano left little recorded legacy on her sadly early death in 2003. Poised on the brink of a great career, Chilcott had recorded the first 25 tracks (all Copland songs) of this Opus Arte release, they were to mark her last recordings. They are reissued here, and enhanced by a further six tracks taken from a recital at her 'home' house, La Monnaie in Brussels, covering Strauss, Berlioz, Argento, Vaughan Williams, Britten and one last number by Copland. Throughout she is a both instinctive and commanding artist, beautifully supported by Iain Burnside as her accompanist. A very special release and a disc of rare skill and charm. Listen to Susan Chilcott's The Shining River on Spotify.

The production, described in the Independent as a ‘sublime musical event featuring performances of transcendent beauty’, boasts a stellar cast that includes Jonas Kaufmann in the title role and Anja Harteros as Elizabeth, conducted by The Royal Opera’s Director of Music, Antonio Pappano.

A powerful historical drama that combines love, politics and religion, Don Carlo is based on a 1787 play by Friedrich von Schiller. Set amid the religious repression the Spanish Inquisition, the opera follows the tortured love affair between Prince of Spain Don Carlos and Elizabeth of Valois, and the conflict between their romantic desires and political choices. Find out more in our Opera Essentials series.

The Composition

First performed at the Paris Opéra in 1867, Don Carlo followed the tradition of French grand opera pioneered by Giacomo Meyerbeer. However, in rehearsals it was deemed too long and extensive cuts were made. Verdi continued to revise the opera over the following 20 years, eventually disposing of the first act altogether in 1884. This production by Nicholas Hytner follows the five-act 1886 version. Find out more about Verdi, ‘the notorious reviser’.

A look through the BBC Radio 4 archive shows that some 334 castaways have chosen music by Verdi to accompany them on their desert island. Those selecting works by the great Italian include Harry Potter actor and West End star Zoë Wanamaker, who chose ‘Offertorio’ from the Requiem Mass; and Downton Abbey creator Julian Fellowes, who explains that he was introduced to Verdi at as a teenager when his mother, on realizing he did not know 'Sempre libera' from La traviata, feared she was 'raising a barbarian'.

Giuseppe Verdi is currently one of the subjects of Deloitte Ignite 2013, a festival curated by Stephen Fry to mark the joint bicentenary of the births of both Verdi and Richard Wagner. As part of the final weekend, medical scientists will explore the reactions of opera fan Stephen Fry and opera novice Alan Davies to a performance of Verdi’s Simon Boccanegra. The event, entitled The Science of Opera will be live-streamed on Twitter.

As summer broke, Cecilia Bartoli’s much heralded recording of Bellini’s Norma hit the shelves. If, like me, you raised an eyebrow at the prospect of Bartoli taking on this most iconic of bel canto roles, you’ll understand why I waited a while to write about it.

You may also, like me, be forced to eat your proverbial hat. This is a fascinating and valid recording. Vincenzo Bellini's Norma must have seemed revelatory in 1831, and it does so again here under Giovanni Antonini’s taut and driven performance, free from the lushly Romantic sound we are used to in this opera. It crackles from the off, properly underlining the central conflicts that make Norma such as exceptional opera.

Is Bartoli the Norma we’ve all been waiting for? In some respects, yes. The vocal grandeur of a Callas or Sutherland is not hers to command, but she matches the former’s intensity and sings with much of the latter’s tonal beauty. But hers is a far more intimately scaled portrait, and within the context of this recording Bartoli challenges and redefines our expectations. The other role casting helps maintain the lighter vocal balance: Sumi Jo is credibly girlish as Adalgisa against Bartoli’s more primal priestess. John Osborn is a lyric tenor with dramatic leanings, and his Pollione too is a perfect fit, as is Michele Pertusi’s Oroveso.

This is a Norma Bellini would recognise. It may not topple the already legion and legendary recordings we have, but it is a vital bookend to any bel canto collection and demands to be heard.

Signalling a new career path, Anna Netrebko’s new all-Verdi CD is a thing of inconsistent beauty. There is clearly repertoire here that she is ripe to sing: the Trovatore exerpts, for example, are stupendously good: the line sustained, colours found, trills executed, drama communicated. Her Lady Macbeth (a role debut as the Lady is already in her diary) is grandly sung with all the right spirit if wayward attack, and her Don Carlo Elisabetta a marvellous creation even in embryonic form. Other passages fare less well – the Vêpres Bolero kept too much in the chest and robbed of brio, the breath too short at times. But put the niggles aside: this is where Anna Netrebko is going, and on the balance, we are in for some very thrilling nights at the opera.

ICA needs an award given to them: they’ve mined a treasure of vintage ballet footage from the BBC archives, and released, on CD, the Callas Violetta and Tebaldi Tosca, both recorded live at the ROH.

And now comes Callas’ Medea, broadcast on 30 June 1959. To all intents and purposes Callas’s stage career was virtually over – a handful of performances remained over the next five years, and a string of ill-advised concerts after that. Listening to this Medea makes the loss almost more incredible: Callas is in spectacular voice, biting through the drama, shaping line after line as only a master of their art can, and it is only in a live context that we can fully appreciate the size and thrust of her voice. She shares the stage with her favourite Giasone, Jon Vickers and no less than a young Fiorenza Cossotto as Neris and Nicola Zaccaria as Creonte. Nicola Rescigno is an efficient conductor. The performance is of its time – the orchestra is not entirely at home in this idiom, the chorus sounds willing rather than skilled, and the sound is decent, no more. You will want this above all for Callas and Vickers, whose duet is worth the price of the disc alone.